


We. Are. Married.

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Married Coliver, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver has a bit of a revelation on their honeymoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We. Are. Married.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted on Tumblr

_We’re married._

The thought hits Oliver in the middle of I-90 just outside Missoula.

“Fry me,” Connor says from the driver’s seat, leaning over an elbow on the console between them with his mouth wide open. His fingers are tapping along to the song on the radio and his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Oliver turns in his seat a little, holding out a few French fries to feed Connor when he stops.

It’s something about the sunset filtering in the window bathing Connor in a halo of deep purple and dusty orange. It’s something about the way Connor’s hair is falling across his forehead; the normally perfect locks an artless tangle long overdue for a cut. It’s something about the glint in Connor’s eye when he glances over to see what’s taking Oliver so long. The look is teasing of course - by now Oliver expects little else - but under that it’s warm and loving and home.

It’s all of that and none of it but, either way, Oliver’s breath catches in his throat.

_We. Are. Married._

The blast of a nearby horn or the flash of headlights in his eye jolts Oliver out of his daze and he feeds Connor the fries he’d been holding up.

“Thanks, Ollie,” Connor mumbles through a full mouth and Oliver digs a few more out of the bottom of the bag for himself.

Of course, this isn’t Brand New Information. Oliver is well aware they are married. They’ve been married for months now. Back in the fall. When the leaves were changing and the air turning crisp. They’ve got the license and the rings and the photo albums and the debt.

Oliver thought he’d gone through all of the ‘Oh my god. I’m married’ moments ages ago. The little jolt at seeing their shoes mixed together at the door and marveling at how naked his hand looked without his ring when he washed dishes. Filing their taxes together in the spring and getting Connor on his health insurance.

Oliver thought he’d acclimated himself to being married. He thought it was all old hat by now but here he is - in the middle of their honeymoon - getting hit with it all over again.

After the wedding had been a terrible time for a honeymoon - it really hadn’t been the best time for a wedding either but that was neither here nor there at this point. Connor had been in the midst of his the final semesters of law school and Oliver had been swamped with the merger at work.

They’d talked about doing something when they both had more time. Going somewhere exotic and warm with sand and fruity drinks and clear, blue waters. But, the more they planned, the less sure they’d been. Looking at websites for far off places that hadn’t felt right. A honeymoon shouldn’t feel like a vacation; it should feel like a start.

Then, one blistery winter night, Connor came home late from Annalise’s. His eyes rimmed red and grainy from too much caffeine and not enough sleep and his skin pale from a life spent indoors. Sitting at the counter, eating the leftovers Oliver’d kept warm in the oven, Connor said, “I just want to get out.” He all but spat in disgust. “Breathe air that isn’t stale. Actually feel the sun.”

Oliver leaned down on an elbow next to him and snagged a carrot of the plate. “I want to not look at a screen for a whole 24-hours.”

Connor nodded and rested his exhausted temple against Oliver’s. “That’s what we should do.”

So they did.

Oliver cashed in years of unused vacation days and Connor put off his post-graduation job hunt and they decided to take back summer.

They spent long days driving down the highway and ate at dives off the interstate. They hiked through parks and canoed down streams and explored in the woods. They fell asleep at night wrapped in each other and lighter than either of them had been in years. 

They were taking the summer to live.

Last night, they’d been lying awake in bed talking about the next leg of their journey. It was their last night in the cabin at Yellowstone and they were heading off for Mount Rainier in the morning but after that was a little up in the air. They could drive to the coast and see the Pacific. Then scoot down to see what the big fuss was about Portland or head up through customs and spend a few days in Vancouver.

The conversation was dreamy and slow. Connor’s head resting on Oliver’s chest while Oliver carded a lazy hand through Connor’s hair. Oliver was on the verge of slipping under when Connor whispered into the dark, “I don’t want to go back.”

“What?” Oliver lifted his head. They had a good week and half before they needed to worry about heading back to Philly.

“I don’t want to go back,” Connor said a little louder this time. He closed his eyes and waited, Oliver’s heartbeat strong in his ear.

“We’ve got time, Con. Don’t-”

Connor turned and rested his chin on Oliver’s chest. “I don’t think I want to be a lawyer.” There. He’d said it. It was finally out there.

Connor watched Oliver’s eyes widen with shock. “What?”

“I don’t want to be lawyer. I don’t want-” Connor swallowed but his mouth was still dry. “I don’t want it, Oliver.”

Oliver blinked, unsure what to say or how to process this. “Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay.” Connor nodded once, his eyes holding Oliver’s for a bead before putting his head back down on Oliver’s chest.

Oliver’s hand shook a little when he brought it back to brush once more through Connor’s hair. He had questions. A dozen, a million questions. His mind whirled with _What are you going to do then? How are we going to pay that debt? Why are you just telling me this now?_ but Oliver held his tongue, Connor’s shattered eyes in his mind. It was not the night for questions. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Now, Oliver glances over as he swallows down his fries. Connor is bobbing his head along with the radio and mouths a few words of the chorus as he checks the blindspot and changes lanes.

_That is my husband. We are married._

The thought doesn’t give him butterflies or make him giddy. Neither, considering last night’s conversation, does it make him feel resigned or resentful. It makes him calm. He repeats it, just once, to himself and allows the truth of it to ground him.

They chose each other. In sickness. In health. In everything between. They chose each other and Oliver isn’t letting anything else touch that.

“It will be okay,” he says.

Connor tilts his head to the side and reaches to turn down the radio. “Hmm?”

“When we get back, if you don’t want to be a lawyer,” Oliver lets the sentence trail off and Connor stiffens beside him. “If you’ve decided that’s not what you want to do, it will be okay.”

“Really?” Connor’s eyes dart back and forth between Oliver and the road, wary but hopeful.

“Yeah.” Oliver nods and looks out the windshield. “We’ll figure it out.”

Connor waits a moment - waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Oliver to take it all back - before letting out a careful breath. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.” Oliver just nods again and they fall silent.

The air is still for the next few miles until Connor reaches over to take Oliver’s hand. Connor kisses the back of it, at the base of Oliver’s fourth finger, right under the ring Connor himself slipped on Oliver’s hand all those months ago.

Glancing over at their joined hands on Connor’s lap, Oliver risks a small smile and squeezes Connor’s hand in his.

It will be fine. They’re going to figure it out.

They are married after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
